Bathwater

The Microwave

It was tragic, of course, this whole marriage law—ehem, Restoration and Magical Retention Act the Ministry of Magic had passed. After all, the reason for its inception was the consequence of a brutal, needless war that not only had decimated their infrastructure, but had also taken more than half of their population with it, too. 

No one wanted to see these young adults subjected to such a law, especially after what they had survived, but the emptiness demanded to be filled again. Peace demanded to be born through the broken pieces War left behind in order to create a new, whole future. 

Yet despite the tragedy of it all, professors and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry lined up front row center to get a good look at the spectacular mess the Ministry had made. While Flitwick had instantly handed in his resignation of the Marriage and Family Life class, the Headmistress' desk was littered with names of volunteers wanting the position. 

Sprout had won the draw, of course, on account of favoritism, but that did not stop Horace Slughorn from swaying things in his favor. It was another consequence of war that had him standing behind the desk, grinning wide at the students grudgingly making their way in, glaring him down with every step further in.

"Honestly," sighed Lavender, "I am a child of divorce. All this instability is not really good for my mental health, Professor. I thought Sprout was in charge of these lessons now?"

"Of course she is, Miss Brown," Slughorn laughed, clapping his hands once together before using them to motion Lavender to her seat next to a sullen Seamus. "But today's lecture is somewhat my area of expertise. Naturally, Professor Sprout only wants the best information for you, so she conceded the reigns of the class for today."

Lavender scoffed at his response, moving to her seat just as Harry hurried in through the door hiding behind the Nott-Vane-Harper unit in an effort to avoid Slughorn's ever-constant, loud praise of him. 

"Do you think," Hermione started, looking up from her book to raise an unamused brow at her best friend, "your fortune for survival has suddenly plummeted now that Ron knows you are sexually active with his little sister?"

"Please don't ever bring up my sex life, Hermione," said Harry with a long exhale as he sat beside her. "But, yes—I actually believe Ron has a better chance at killing me than Voldemort ever did. He's an overprotective fool and all that."

Hermione rolled her eyes, sticking a broken quill into the dip of her book to hold her current page. "I'd say a hypocritical, sexist fool, but sure. How'd you even lose him? I'd never seen him run faster, even when we were chased by Snatchers."

"Some Fourth Year girls shielded me from him, actually," Harry let out a puff of a laugh. "They think Gin and I are sort of the perfect couple."

Hermione laughed, tossing her head back at the pink now tinting his cheeks. "So you let the fans save the day, huh?"

"Tried to," he confessed before hunching his shoulders and turning his back on Pavarti Patil and Gregory Goyle's desk, especially because he could see his nosy house-mate leaning in centimeter by centimeter to try and hear Harry and Hermione's conversation. "But then Cho's little sister hexed me out of the circle of protection. She said something about me getting my dues for leaving Cho for Ginny. If only she knew I left Cho for you."

With another laugh, Hermione playfully elbowed Harry when he grinned at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Although she had felt somewhat horrible for Cho's belief that Harry and she had something more than a sibling-dynamic, the thought of a romance with him continued to bring amusement to both. 

"You're in my seat, Potter."

Hermione and Harry looked away from one another, breaking their fit of laughter to find Draco Malfoy glaring down at them. Instantly, the mirth that had stretched out their mouths dissolved into respective frowns.